


Nocturne for a Trollhunter

by EarthboundJedi



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Jim plays piano, because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-04-06 17:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthboundJedi/pseuds/EarthboundJedi
Summary: Music soothes the anxiety-ridden teenage Trollhunter.I've been sitting on this for a whileand by a while i mean many weeks. i'm so ashamed.but when I sawkriicket's piano playing JimI immediately fell in love with the concept. So obviously I had to write a cute little something about it. :)Update:Now including a scene occurring after the events of season 3. Because Feels.





	1. Chapter 1

Jim sat at the piano bench, reveling in the warmth from a sunbeam streaming through the living room window. He let his hands run along the wooden surface of the upright’s lid, wandering along its swirling knots and ridges as he envisioned the keys underneath.

Blinky had found the piano abandoned in one of Arcadia’s back allies a few weeks ago. Together they had re-strung, refurbished, and re-tuned the instrument down in Blinky's library in between Trollhunter training sessions. Upon its resurrection, Blinky skillfully danced across the keys with all four hands and replayed a Bach fugue completely from memory. When Jim's eyes lit up, watching wondrously as the deft movements translated to harmonious sounds, the troll declared the piano should be relocated to Jim’s house, insisting that such a glorious instrument should not be sentenced to spend its days in the dark, dusty underground.

Jim had been tentative at first; and rightly so, as he recalled his mother's reaction to discovering the newest addition to their house:

“Jim, why is there a piano in our living room?”

“Umm -”

“Oh god, you didn't steal it, did you?  _ Please  _ tell me you didn't steal it!”

“No, Mom, I didn’t steal it! The, uh, school guidance counselor was getting rid of it, so he wanted me to have it.”

“Mr. Blinky gave it to you? Well, in that case…”

And just like that, his mom had accepted the presence of the piano, even offering to sign him up for lessons with one of the local teachers. He had respectfully declined with some sort of made-up excuse; for little did she know that, whenever she was gone for extended periods of time, Blinky would come by the house and teach Jim himself.

It had been frustrating at first - for the first week, Blinky kept forgetting that Jim only had two hands and therefore could only do half as much as the four-armed troll. Slowly but surely, Jim eventually figured out where his hands needed to be, which notes were which, and a few basic chord progressions. He was by no means a virtuoso - his real talent would always lie in the kitchen - but he gradually picked up enough to actually start reading music and play through some basic songs.

Jim quickly found he could spend entire afternoons sitting at the piano, the hours passing by as if they were only minutes. Stringing notes together to form a tune turned out to be very similar to melding the right ingredients together to make a dish, except that one didn’t need to have an empty stomach to fully enjoy it. The focus it took to make music, and the gratification it returned, was decidedly a good thing for Jim; it became a way to ground himself and center the part of him that always seemed slightly off-balance, especially when a particularly rough day of Trollhunter duties made him more unbalanced than usual. He wished he had discovered it sooner.

The piano lid softly creaked as he opened it, revealing the row of polished white keys interspersed with smooth ebony. He soundlessly ran his fingers over the tops of the keys until his hands were where he wanted to start, hovering the third finger of his right hand over the black key right above middle C. Pressing down, he released the note into the air, followed by a slow progression of notes wandering around a minor scale. With no score in front of him, he experimented with the chain of notes until it took the shape of a tune he had heard playing in the background of a documentary at school. It was a mysterious, lamenting [melody](https://youtu.be/AxyQoAZ2e-s?t=23s), and it had been stuck in his head all day; the methodical act of recreating it was highly satisfying.

He heard soft footsteps at the doorway as his mother entered the room. She waited until he reached the end of his phrase to speak, “Hey, kiddo, was that Tchaikovsky you were just playing?”

“Uhm, I don’t know?” he replied sheepishly. “I heard it earlier today, and… I dunno, I just really liked the tune.”

“Let me rephrase that, then - that  _ was  _ Tchaikovsky.” She smiled at him, walking over to lovingly rub his shoulders. “Symphony number four, movement two, if I remember correctly.”

“Mom! I didn’t know you knew anything about classical music!”

“Hey, you’re not the only one in this house allowed to have secrets,” she winked. “Hmmm… I might still have…” She turned away to leaf through one of their bookshelves, triumphantly pulling out a thin booklet he hadn’t noticed before. She turned a few pages, then placed the book on the shelf of the piano.

Jim peered at the page, recognizing the neatly printed musical notation, but it looked a little different than the sheets of music he’d been working on with Blinky. “This one only has treble clef?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

His mom nodded. “Because it’s not a piano part, per se; it’s written for a single violin.” His eyes widened in realization as she continued, “Back when I was your age,  _ my _ parents had me take violin lessons. They had me practice so much that I eventually resented it, but some parts of it I really enjoyed. Like this piece. It’s a little different than if an entire orchestra were playing it, but the melody’s still there. Go ahead, try it out.”

She sat down in an adjacent chair, watching him associate the notes on the page with the keys of the piano. He stumbled around a bit, his sight reading skills still pretty remedial, but eventually he got the hang of how the notes grouped together. This [melody](https://youtu.be/63WVWJS42yI?t=43s) was very calming, almost hopeful sounding. As he grew more comfortable, he experimented with trying to add chords underneath the line using his second hand. Some didn’t work as well as others, and he tried not to get too upset with himself whenever the notes clashed in a bad way.

“It’s a really pretty melody, Mom,” he commented after a few minutes, turning and seeing a content look on her face. “It almost sounds familiar - what’s this from?”

“It’s from Dvorak’s New World symphony. It’s actually a pretty famous melody, though not a lot of people realize where the tune comes from. It’s my favorite.”

“Oooh, want to hear one of my favorites?” Without waiting for her response, he shifted gears and started plunking out the [notes](https://youtu.be/l7zcS8yr33Q?t=9s) of an aria he had first heard in the museum seemingly ages ago. It was the first full song (besides Twinkle Twinkle Little Star) he'd learned to play, mostly because he’d asked Blinky about it so much that the troll decided teaching it to Jim was a better alternative than flinging himself from the edge of Hero’s Forge.

“That’s _ In the Hall of the Mountain King _ , right, kiddo?”

He responded with a lopsided grin.

“Hmm. Wouldn't have been my first guess for your favorite, but I guess it suits you,” Dr. Lake commented thoughtfully. She then stood up and stretched her shoulders. “Well, I’d better get going,” she sighed, setting a course for the front door. As she passed Jim, she playfully kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair. “They scheduled me for a double-shift at the hospital, but with so many doctors out of town right now it’ll probably turn into a weekend shift. You can hold down the fort while I’m gone, right, Jim?”

Jim’s heart leapt in his chest. Though he was sympathetic to his mom’s insane work schedule, he was excited by the notion of having more uninterrupted piano time with Blinky. “Of course, Mom, I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my little hero,” she smiled. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Jim alone at the piano bench. His fingers continued their methodical route across the piano keys, letting the familiar tune from  _ Peer Gynt _  resonate throughout the empty house.


	2. Requiem for a Trollhunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected continuation. Takes place after the events of season 3.  
>  ~~sorry in advance for the feels~~

“Master Jim, could you come here for a second?”

“Blinky, not now,” Jim groaned, leaning his head back against the wall of the cave. “We've been traveling for, like, three days straight and I am  _ tired. _ ”

“You must understand, Master Jim, overcast conditions such as the ones we have been experiencing rarely last for this long,” Blinky’s head appeared through an opening on the other side of their temporarily refuge. “We must use that to our full advantage in order to expedite our expedition.”

“To New Jersey,” Jim rolled his eyes.

“Indeed. Though I fail to understand your pessimistic outlook regarding our destination, I thought you were looking forward to locating our new Heartstone.”

“It's not that, Blinky, it's…”

_ The fact that it's on the complete other side of the country from everything I've ever known. Away from my best friend. Away from my mother. _

_ …and it's, well, New Jersey. _

Jim silently stewed on his thoughts while Blinky continued, “Very well, but I do believe I have found something that may lift your spirits. So if you will just  _ come here _ …”

Jim glanced over at Claire, who had settled on the floor just a few feet away from him. She gave him one of her no-nonsense looks, jerking her chin in Blinky's direction as if to say,  _ 'What are you waiting for? Get your butt over there!’ _

With a sigh, Jim unfolded himself from the floor and strode towards the opening Blinky had disappeared through. After rounding the corner, his heart momentarily caught in his chest. There was Blinky, smugly standing next to a dusty, dry-rotting upright piano, one of his arms casually draped over the top while another dramatically lifted the lid covering the keys. At first glance, the internal components appeared to be in much better condition than the piano’s exterior.

“How…? Where…?” he stammered.

“Well, you see,” Blinky started, “during AAARRRGGHH!!!'s supply run to the nearby landfill, he happened upon this abandoned specimen of an instrument. We will not be able to continue to bring it with us, as our wagons simply do not have the space, but at least for the moment…” Blinky smiled at him, “we thought you might appreciate it, for the time being.”

Speechless, Jim sat down on the rickety bench, the old wood groaning under his weight. Experimentally, he used his left hand to plunk out a major scale, finding the piano was relatively well-tuned, all things considered. He continued wandering up the keyboard, still only using his left hand, finding which keys stuck a little and which ones had a weird twang to them after pressing down on them.

“I know it is not perfect, and it will never compare to the one left behind in your mother's house, but -”

“It's great, Blinky. Thank you.” Jim grinned, fangs and all.

Blinky, clearly pleased with himself, continued, “Well then, Master Jim, how much do you remember of the Beethoven sonata we had begun working on before… well… you know.”

_ Right. Before Morgana and Gunmar tried to completely obliterate Arcadia. Before Merlin turned me into… _

“Master Jim?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he shook his head, trying to clear it of the wave of emotions that were starting to bubble back up to the surface. Dealing with his mood swings had become a constant battle, ebbing and flowing like the tide as his human hormones clashed with his new trollish instincts. Throw in the instability of the pieces of his mind that had become clouded and broken in the recent months, and you had a recipe for one Trollhunter who wasn't exactly the best traveling companion as of late. Honestly, he didn't understand how Claire and Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! and everyone else even put up with him.

Playing the piano again would definitely be a welcome distraction.

Taking a deep breath, Jim moved his hands into position over the keys. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his right hand.

_ How is this going to work? It was already hard enough with ten fingers, but now that I only have nine… _

He pushed the thought to the side, exhaling as he pressed down on the keys to form the opening chord. He slowly began to play, trying to remember the notes Blinky had taught him seemingly ages ago.

But he couldn't even make it past the first phrase. “Ugh!” He cried out, balling his right hand into a fist and slamming it onto the keyboard. The resulting clashing notes bounced off the wall of the cave, assaulting his sensitive ears.

“Master Jim! What is the matter?” Blinky looked at him with surprise and concern.

“It's… it's this  _ stupid hand! _ ” Jim snarled, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. “I break, like, half the things I touch, I can't enjoy cooking anymore, and now…” he trailed off as tears started streaking down his stony skin. A desperate, feral sort of cry rattled in his chest.

“Oh dear…” Blinky muttered.

Jim felt hands settle on his shoulders. Human hands, though, not troll ones.

“Jim, it'll be okay,” Claire murmured in his ear.

“But… it's… nothing is the same!” he cried. “I'm not the same anymore, I'm not  _ Jim _ anymore!”

“You're right, nothing is the same,” she soothed. Her hands traveled up to his hair, scratching light circles just behind the base of his horns. She'd quicky discovered the calming effect of that motion shortly after they'd begun their cross-country trek. “But you're still _our_ _Jim._ Just… a slightly different Jim. A Jim who's been through a lot.”

“But I don't think I'll ever get used to… all this,” he gestured vaguely at himself before leaning into her touch.

“You will in time, Master Jim,” Blinky said kindly. “You are a survivor, you adapt and overcome. It is your nature.”

“But my ‘nature’ is all messed up now!”

“No, just the outside stuff,” Claire insisted. “The inside is still you, remember?”

“I'm still not so sure about that…”

Claire lightly kissed his cheek then backed away to let Blinky slide onto the bench next to him. “Master Jim,” he started, “I think you should try the song once more.”

“But I can't do it! Not anymore!”

“Nonsense! You simply have to relearn a few things so that you may adapt. I think you will find you are more capable than you give yourself credit for.”

Jim slouched in his seat, “But Blinky… I…”

Blinky softly sighed, turning all six eyes on Jim. “Did I ever mention to you that Beethoven was deaf during the later years of his life? And yet he still continued to create new compositions?”

“Wait, what?,” Jim's eyes widened. “Really? But… how? How'd he do it?”

“He was determined enough to find a way to adapt and overcome his condition. At least, to the best of his abilities.” Blinky paused to place a reassuring hand on Jim's shoulder. “I think you will find that a missing digit is not as great of a challenge to overcome as you are letting it make itself out to be.”

Jim nodded, slightly biting his upper lip. With a resigned breath, he re-positioned his hands over the piano keys. And started again.

He stumbled quite a bit, especially at first, but he forced himself to keep going. Eventually, the [intended song](https://youtu.be/kVARN4_GcS4?t=10s) finally took shape, filling the stark cavern with its reflective melody.

When he finished, he looked sideways at Blinky to find the troll was beaming at him. “Well done, Master Jim. Well done.”

“I'm going to scrounge up something for dinner,” Claire stated. “Would you like to join me?”

“I think I'm going to spend a little more time right here, if that's alright,” Jim muttered.

“Sure thing. I'll save my dirty dishes for you when you're done,” she teased, kissing him on the cheek again before walking away.

“And I would be remiss if I failed to check in on the other trolls,” Blinky smirked. “Do holler if you need anything, Master Jim.”

“Of course. Thanks.”

Soon it was just Jim in the little alcove, alone with the salvaged piano. His heart weighing a contradictory mixture of heavy and light in his chest, he slowly began recreating the [tune his mother had shared with him](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=63WVWJS42yI&feature=youtu.be&t=43s) in their living room so long ago.

_ A new life… _

_ A new world. _

A single tear fell onto the worn keys of the piano.


End file.
